


Butterfly

by serein (koshitsu_kamira)



Series: Polaroid Snapshots [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boarding School, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 15:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7178372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koshitsu_kamira/pseuds/serein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youngho has an uncanny ability to find Taeil who can disappear at will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterfly

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Butterfly by BTS.

Youngho wished he hadn’t carelessly disregarded the professor’s warning on how skittish the new student tended to act, considering he now had spent over an hour looking for his classmate, skipping lectures in the process, his impeccable track record gone for good - in his defense, finding a person who could become completely invisible would pose a challenge to most people, even gifted ones. Sun dried grass crunching underneath his sneakers, Youngho continued walking around the park situated behind the academy building, combing through the area meticulously, extending his senses, trying to discern emotional shifts in the environment. Only his frustration, growing irritation echoed, vibrated in his immediate surroundings though; sighing, he sagged against a towering oak and stared up at the radiant sky, blank, exhaustion settling in his muscles, joints; still, Youngho straightened up, then carried on with his seemingly futile search.

He had never quite experienced hardships, difficulties when it came to social affairs, including nonsensical pleasantries, subliminal messages, recognizing faux pas with ease, the rare ability to influence circumstances, swaying the majority in his favour taken granted - his parents, teachers didn’t suspect anything either, all contributing Youngho’s substantial influence to his personal charms, charisma. Ultimately a compulsory examination in freshman year revealed his talent, classified as a variation of empathy displaying subtle manipulative characteristics - his consequential relocation to a special institution had been a welcome change, respite since old acquaintances started treating Youngho with peculiar doubt, wariness despite of their knowledge that his abilities were fairly weak, feeble. In addition, his family weren’t acting exactly supportive, both parents constantly on guard, watchful whenever he approached them, recoiling minutely; eventually Youngho grew tired of the general hesitation accompanying his movements, the blind fear, distrust shadowing his daily interactions, and accepted the offer from the academy. The first few months were simultaneously exhilarating and partially frightening for he was obliged to face, overpass the misconceptions, prejudices he had learnt, believed concerning the gifted, the minority which also encompassed himself - Youngho met fellow youngsters possessing remarkable, terrible skills, capabilities, perpetually struggling to contain their power. Minhyung, another boy with extrasensory perception, was straddling the gossamer line separating insanity from lucidity, his mental shields precarious, brittle to withstand the impression, the burden of hundreds minds, thought fragments, nevertheless he upheld an optimistic attitude, certain he would conquer the obstacles, regain control in the near future. However, at the moment Youngho hoped, fantasized he could borrow Minhyung’s talent, getting increasingly exasperated by the passing seconds, his classmate nowhere in sight, refusing to reveal his whereabouts - without scent, visibility, sound exposed the elder was a ghost, an apparition, the sole manner to pinpoint him was literally stumbling upon his body, limbs.

The person in question, his current mentee Moon Taeil was an oddity, an anomaly, his gifts manifesting ways unpredictable, confounding the most experienced lecturers who were clueless whether the boy’s invisibility stemmed from the mind or it affected the physical dimension as well, similarly nobody knew what label fit appropriately: projection, shield and manipulation were on the short-list. So far Taeil hadn’t dematerialized yet, but the scope of his ability was developing exponentially - these days he flickered in and out, a candle standing in the draft, his silhouette quivering, objects blurring, fading away in his proximity; notwithstanding his condition he always made sure to attend classes, scribbling diligently on the blackboard when asked, mathematical formulas, solutions written in a neat print. Undecisive if he should touch base with Taeil - he was extremely shy indeed, so overwhelming him was not on the agenda - Youngho chose two check in occasions per week, sticking to casual subjects during their discussions: school work, teachers, extracurricular activities, his nerves flaring each time the elder timidly glanced at him, actually paying attention, relaxing his stance instead of bolting away, spilling excuses thus he could flee. Thankfully, Taeil hadn’t opted to evaporate as Youngho struck up a conversation with him, answering the questions earnestly, pink lips curving gently around the vowels, blinking rapidly while thinking, contemplating his reply, eyelashes fluttering, restless, colourful butterfly wings riding the summer breeze, shedding vibrant pigments.

Having concluded that Taeil wasn’t hiding in the park, Youngho switched directions and headed toward the Japanese garden, a secluded area lecturers frequented, preferring the graceful hush enveloping the retreat: a stepping stone bridge looping across a freshwater brooke, lacquered pine benches framing the rock configurations installed, a gazebo hovering at the perimeter. Except today the pavilion was absent - stopping mid-course, he frowned, wondering, inquisitive; no announcement had reached his ears about the wooden structure having been removed or destroyed, although the school often suffered accidents, mishaps due to abilities left ungoverned; scanning the place, Youngho resumed his journey, a notion occurring him slowly. 

Gravel rustling in his leave, Youngho carefully moved forth, kicking a pebble ahead, whooping quietly when it vanished, noiseless, confirming what his intuitions had suggested; taking a deep breath, he jumped, feet thumping loud on the floorboard upon arrival, body automatically rearranged into a crouch, teeth clacking together from the crash, his skeleton absorbing the impact. Taeil was sitting propped against the opposite wall, glasses perched loosely on his cheekbones, textbooks, notes scattered on the ground haphazardly by his legs; eyes wide, he gawked mutely at the unexpected scene, then swiftly crawled forward, cursed, pushing a wad of tissues under Youngho’s nose, pinching the bridge tightly.

“You are bleeding,” he explained, tilting the boy’s head back to staunch the flow, gingerly maneuvering Youngho into a more comfortable position, letting the younger rest atop his thighs, “Sorry, I should have noticed you coming,” muttered Taeil, gazing down worriedly, peering closer, “At least you haven’t hurt your ears,” he reckoned, sounding relieved, “Hansol fainted the first time he tried entering the field.”

Youngho squinted, watching the tiny pout Taeil wore recede as he eased off, reclining calmly on the checkered blanket, the other’s expression turning placid, a wash of affection tinting his sharp features - “Isn’t your roommate clairvoyant?” Youngho queried, interest piqued, fidgeting restlessly, voice muffled, nasal, “I heard Ji Hansol’s gifts are especially strong, his discipline exemplary.”

The elder hummed, nonchalant, wordlessly lifting the soiled napkins, inspecting Youngho’s state meticulously, a minute frown creasing his brows; once he was satisfied that the trickle had finally ceased, Taeil helped the younger boy sit up, hands warm, gentle around his waist, hold surprisingly firm, betraying his slight frame - “His power is restricted to a single plane,” came the enigmatic reply. Youngho grimaced, vertigo causing his vision to swim, dizziness muddling his thought process, he floundered, careening perilously to the right until Taeil spared him the embarrassment, and pressed the boy against his side, keeping an arm on his shoulders, “Easy there, tiger,” he chided softly, musing, “I guess since you have sensitive perception, you’re unusually susceptible to the aftereffects.”

Inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and citrus, Youngho swallowed resin flavoured air, focused on his ability, and leisurely disengaged the security latches which had shut close when he fell, unfurling his senses cautiously - found his skin buzzing, soda bubbles fizzing in his veins, fingertips tingling from Taeil’s sheer presence, the connection between them flashing bright, palpable. Startled, he froze, deliberating the implications, heartbeat accelerating, delicate, “What…” Youngho stuttered, his taxed brain coping to handle the rush of new information, “So you can shield?” he probed, inquiring - generally the other was unreadable, vacant almost, only vague pinpricks of emotions detectable. 

“Hansol calls it pocket,” Taeil drew a circle in the air, wrist frail, “but bubble would be more accurate,” he paused, mulling over the correct term, silent, “we are now in a niche which is independent from the present time and space,” scanning Youngho’s face painted with confusion, he continued, “ideally, I would dematerialize, considering this is a separate dimension,” he shrugged, the metal buttons on his jacket clacking together, then abruptly trailed off. 

“By they way,” Taeil’s gaze seared, catching the younger’s, “you shouldn’t have been able to cross the barrier,” he gnawed on his lips, pensive, “I had to get used to Hansol because our dorm room is definitely not spacious,” a scowl, “and the adjustment period was rather lengthy. I’m not certain where that leaves you,” he huffed, smile wry, derisive, his irises adapting a dark hue, a mouthful of bitter espresso, the foam having melted away. Youngho remained quiet, despite the sentences crowding, swarming his mind, the ache festering in the pit of his chest, yearning engulfing, submerging him - ignoring the candy red twine glimmering, ghosting his sight, he said, “Maybe I’m special,” tone wavering, he cleared his throat, nape burning at the disbelieving scoff; Taeil looked amused and mildly incredulous, smirk losing the harsh, sullen edge. “Of course you are, wonder boy,” the elder conceded, chuckle mellow, “still, you will be marked absent for skipping Physics,” before Youngho could have started listing excuses, glowering profusely, he interrupted playfully, “Here’s the deal: I snag an infirmary slip to cover you, in exchange, you help me finish the Literature assignment. So?” 

Flustered, the other boy took in Taeil’s lazy posture, the mischievous glint concealed beneath his neutral exterior, barely distinguishable, contradicting his regular clean-cut, detached image; pulse thudding on his eardrums, blush climbing further, Youngho whispered a low “alright,” and picked up a poetry volume abandoned on the floor, obediently snapping the tome open. Doubtless, his parents would reprimand him over the missed classes, yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret these serene, contented moments, the sunlight combing through Taeil’s auburn tresses, the warmth of his thighs lingering under Youngho’s palm, the flippant quips punctuating their impromptu study session, muffin crumbs in the corner of his mouth - he had learnt far more important, precious facts in an hour than a single lecture could possibly offer, like the reason why each step he took inevitably led him straight toward Moon Taeil.


End file.
